For Even the Wisest Cannot Foresee the Future
by AvidGamer
Summary: *This is a rewrite of the original - Rating may change* More than 300 years have past since Eragon and Saphira left Alegaesia in search of a new home to rebuild their ancient order. Now the city they have built is flourishing. The riders are back once more and Eragon is content with his life. But as we all now, peace does not last forever...
1. Chapter 1

For Even the Wisest Cannot Foresee the Future

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello readers! This story is a rewrite of the original that I started several months ago, but had to stop working on due to unavoidable circumstances. All I can say is that I'm in the military and we don't always have control of our lives.**

 **I'm back though, and I hope to finish this story the second time around.**

 **There have been some changes to the story that those of you who read the first one will notice. And looking back on it, I wish you didn't read it! Hahaha…sadly I'm being serious.**

 **Arya will be in the story, but not for a few more chapters. Murtagh will be in the story, but not until after Arya makes her appearance.**

 **Anyway, read, critique, and, above all, enjoy!**

 ** _Atra gülia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr_**

Chapter 1

The young boy did not want to go to bed. No one should be in bed while the sun was still out. He did not believe when his father told him that he was going to bed at his normal time. It's not like the sun can just choose to stay out longer, right? The boy pondered this as he washed his face and changed in to his bedclothes.

"Alren, are you in bed yet?" he heard his father call.

"Er, yes!" He yelled back as he hurriedly dove under his covers. "You're still going to tell me a bedtime story, right father?" He heard his father chuckle outside his door.

"Of course son, of course. Now what would you like to hear about tonight?"

The boy instantly replied, "I want to hear about the great Eragon Shadeslayer and his dragon Saphira Brightscales! Tell me about when they killed the Black King!"

The father smiled at his son, who was no doubt going to go on many adventures when he became older. For he was always getting into trouble with the townsfolk of Carvahall and going off on his own exploring.

"They say that the great Eragon was born right here, in Carvahall," Alren's father began. "The lowly child of a farmer. But that everything changed when a dragon egg appeared before him in a great flash of light from the gods. For who else could have known who the egg was destined for, but the gods?

The father paused for a moment to remember how his father before him had told this same story, many years ago when he was but a young lad himself.

"Legend says that the boy Eragon, his dragon Saphira, and an old storyteller, whose name has been lost to history, set out to join the Varden and give their aid in the fight against the Black King's empire. They had many adventures along the way and Eragon learned much from the old man, who turned out to be one of the last Riders! Though his dragon, also named Saphira, had perished in the rebellion which claimed the life of so many of the Riders of old…"

"And he taught Eragon how to fight! And use magic!" exclaimed Alren, excitedly.

"Yes son, now hush and let me finish," the father said gently.

The boy closed his mouth and waited impatiently for his father to continue.

"Now let's see, where was I…? Ah, yes…They had many adventures and Eragon learned to use of magic and was trained in the sword. He had, apparently, a natural affinity for both and progressed quickly. Alas his power was not enough yet, to save his friend. During an ambush by the Ra'zac, foul creatures that preyed upon human flesh, the storyteller was mortally wounded as he leaped in front of Eragon to save him from a thrown dagger." The father paused as he saw Alren's eyelids begin to droop.

"Though much of Eragon's story is unknown, we do know that he eventually found the Varden and joined them after rescuing the elven princess, Arya, from the shade Durza, with Murtagh, the red rider."

"Arya and Eragon managed to slay Durza during the battle of Farthen Dur, and then Eragon left for Ellesmera, the city of the elves, to continue training. But that is a story for another time, son."

The father smiled at his sleeping child before leaving the room quietly. He paused though, in the hallway, and wished he knew how the hero's story had turned out after the fall of the Black King…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Eragon sighed as he leaned back from his desk, the mountain of papers presenting a daunting task. One he did not look forward to tackling.

 _"Oh, if only you two-legs could look at something and wish it done, what a lazy world this would be. Now stop gripping and be done with it, little one_ , _for I wish to go flying with my partner-of-mind-and-heart,"_ Saphira scolded him.

" _It wouldn't be all that bad,"_ Eragon thought at her. _"We'd be able to go flying together more often for one thing. Though I suppose in the long run, it would do more harm than good. You are right once more, my beautiful dragon."_

Saphira snorted from her cushion at the other end of Eragon's office. The office was large, much larger than he would have preferred, but Saphira pointed out that a big office meant that she could keep him company whenever she wished. And so Eragon had conceded to her, as he was wont to do in most issues.

He had decided to take full advantage of the space though, and had one wall lined with shelves for the, now numerous, books and scrolls that ranged in every category from books on farming and woodworking, to ancient scrolls of magic and gramarye. Over the last three hundred years, Eragon had managed to read nearly every one. Though the last century had seen a shortening of his free time as he was caught up more and more in the affairs of the Riders he has begun to rebuild so long ago. His mind drifted back countless years to when he first began the daunting task…

***Flashback***

The rocking of the ship, which had been a comfort during the voyage so far, was not helping Eragon sleep. He was thinking about _Her._ This was by no means an uncommon occurrence, but tonight was especially hard. Tonight was the night of the third anniversary of when Eragon had met her.

He would never see her again. Even when he had hinted at the possibility of a reunion in the distant future while saying goodbye, he had not believed it. And doubted she had either.

Saphira curled her tail around him tighter, but he refused to be comforted. He was never going to see her again. Never see watch her emerald eyes sparkle mischievously, or hear her laugh make the birds sing. Never watch as she moved gracefully around the sparring grounds, stalking him like a panther.

Eragon was roused from his misery by a shout from one of his elven guards. Climbing out from Saphira's embrace, he made his way up to the bow of the ship.

"What is it Yaela?"

"Shadeslayer, Laufin has spotted land in the distance. Though we are still several hundred leagues away. We should reach it by midafternoon tomorrow," She replied.

He nodded and went back to Saphira.

" _I will scout ahead tomorrow morning to see if it is safe to land,"_ Saphira told him.

Eragon sent her a mental nod.

" _And you will come with me. I'm getting tired of you moping around. This will help take your mind off of things."_

" _Perhaps you are right,"_ he said. _"Perhaps it will do me some good. This voyage has taken up the better part of six months and I am sick of the ocean."_

Saphira looked into his eyes with her great sapphire ones. _"I hope so, little one. This voyages has been hard on us for a number of reasons. The sooner we land, the soon we can begin to build our new homes and distract our minds."_

Eragon agreed with her.

" _It is settled then, tomorrow we shall get the first glimpse of our new home."_

And with that, both dragon and rider slept peacefully for the first time in many long months…

***End Flashback***

They had found this new land to be brimming with life. Both in plants and animals, some of which were familiar, but many more who were not.

And so the construction had begun. What started with simple huts and eventually began to form into the makings of a grand city. With towering spires that seemed to touch the clouds and a beautiful forest the elves sang into being. For though they had forsaken their home, they could not escape their natural love of the trees and the shade of the forest.

The first of the riders, strangely enough, did not arrive from Alagaesia, but was among their own. Yaela, one of the elves who had fought by Eragon's side and protected him in the campaign against Galbatorix, became a rider three years after they first landed in, what Eragon and Saphira named, Eldurna; a tribute to the Eldunari and all they had sacrifice and suffered for at the Mad King's hand.

The elves were ecstatic. They danced around the newest rider and her fledgling dragon, who she named Kazurn. He was a slightly darker shade than Glaedr had been. Eragon was a bit hesitant in begin her training, for she was already a formidable warrior and spell caster. But she surprised him with her willingness to learn and be instructed by someone vastly younger than herself.

"You may be young, Eragon-elda, but you are the one who slew the Mad King and you are the one who will bring the riders to their glory again," she had told him. "You may be younger than I am, but you have already proven yourself, ebrithil"

Her use of the term "ebrithil" had embarrassed him though.

 _"Why should it? You, of all people here, deserve it. For without you, there would be no riders, little one,"_ Saphira declared.

 _"I suppose you are right, but it just feels strange,"_ Eragon replied. _"I'm just not used to it, I suppose."_

 _"You will become used to it in time, little one."_ The dragon stated.

Then Eragon felt another mind, one full of wisdom and sorrow, touch his own.

 _"Do not doubt yourself, Eragon-finiarel. You will grow into it in time, as your dragon has so wisely informed you. Until then you will have us, the Eldunari to guide you when you are at a loss."_

 _"Thank you, Glaedr-elda, those words mean much to me. I have a feeling I shall be relying on you quite a bit in the years to come,"_ Eragon replied.

The first of the riders arrived a decade after Eragon's little party had landed. By that time the city, dubbed Shur'tugal Du Lif, or Life of the Riders, was large enough to accommodate twenty riders and their dragons as well as several dozen others. For with the new riders came others wishing to make a new life, as well as the families of the riders in some cases.

The city was much larger now, with nearly two hundred riders and their dragons living among roughly three thousand citizens. Not to mention the wild dragons, who made the northern mountains their home.

Eragon did not know their exact number, for they kept that knowledge to themselves, but he estimated there were somewhere around five to six hundred wild dragons flying free in the skies.

Many changes had taken place over the course of the last few centuries, but perhaps the most surprising change to Eragon were the ones he himself experienced.

When he had left Alagaesia, he was but a boy of seventeen. True he was the boy who had slain Galbatorix and ushered in a new age, but he had still been a boy.

Now, three centuries later, he stood several inches taller at roughly six feet. His voice had deepened, his chest filled out, and his shoulders and widened a few more inches. He'd never be as large and powerfully built as his cousin, Roran, but he was no longer the wiry lad he had been.

His ears were more defined, closer to that of an elf's. His face too, had become more angular, though he would always be more rugged than the elves, due to his human side. He had decided to forgo a clean-shaven appearance and let his beard grow, though he kept it trimmed close to his face. His light brown hair had darken and was now streaked with silver. He had seriously contemplated using magic to color his hair, but Saphira said it made him look regal. And so he had decided to take her advice and keep it.

Perhaps the most noticeable change though was his eyes. No longer were they the warm brown he had had growing up, but blue; the same piercing blue as his dragon's. The Eldunari were at a loss for this. Never had they heard of a rider's eyes changing to match his dragons without magic consciously being used.

" _The only explanation we have for you, Shadeslayer, is that the bond between you and Brightscales is unusually strong. No other reason can we think of to explain this phenomenon. You and your dragon truly are one-of-a-kind,"_ Umaroth had told them.

Naturally this had pleased Saphira to no end. She had declared that this was only the beginning and that he would eventually become a dragon like herself. No amount of arguing with her could sway her opinion, so Eragon had dropped the subject.

"She'll know in a few hundred years when I haven't grown a tail, fangs, or gained the ability to shoot flames from my mouth that I was right all along," He grumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ellesmera, the capital of the most powerful and ancient race in Alagaesia, stood outside the flow of time. It had not changed in nearly two millennia, save for some minor addition of living quarters and such. Certainly nothing had changed since Eragon had last walked under its' trees and along its' paths.

Life remained the same, for the most part, as it had since the Riders of old had flown above it. Despite the fact that elves could roam the land freely once more, humanity rarely saw one. In fact Arya was one of the few elves who still left the shade of its' trees. And that was only to fulfil her queenly duties. She had no reason to leave except for the occasional meeting of the land's monarchs. The outside world had little of offer her ever since her dearest friend had sailed to lands unknown.

Eragon. She often thought of him, though they rarely spoke. In fact the number of times they had held conversation with one another over the last three centuries, that was not related to politics or business, could be counted on her hands. It was partly her fault. Too busy with council meetings, training new riders, or dealing with ambassadors. Arya missed him though. One of two people to truly see her. And just her. Not the princess. Not the elven ambassador. And certainly not the queen.

He had written her letters though. Sent on little grass boats. She enjoyed seeing those messengers sail gracefully along the air currents and into her hands. It was somewhat of a private joke between the two riders. This was when they could be personal with each other. This was when they could be what they really were to one another. Friends. Best of friends. Though Arya had long since known they would be nothing more. She did not deceive herself by saying she never had feelings for him. She had. Strong ones at that. But time has a way of diminishing all it touches. And, without the constant presence, those feelings had waned. The only consolation she had was that he had admitted in one of the grassboat letters, some eighty years ago, that he no longer felt the same way about her.

Arya had been relieved. She knew how much he had once loved her, but without any reciprocating feelings, that he was aware of anyway, his feelings had faded with time as well. Arya turned her thoughts to the last few decades.

Nothing of great importance had happened. Eraden Stronghammer had taken the throne as the 8th ruler of the Empire nearly two decades ago. For Roran's great grandchild had married into the royal family, thus merging the two great houses. But other than that, the land had been quit. And at peace. The Urgals had greatly benefited from being brought into the Rider pact. They had become more civilized and mellowed out as a race. Though certainly not by much. Though it was enough to keep the peace.

Perhaps it was time for her to take up Eragon's offer of visiting. Her people could do without her for a few months.

" _I agree, it is time for a break. I'm tired of being cooped up in the damnable forest,"_ Firnen interjected into her thoughts.

" _I'm inclined to agree with you,"_ Arya replied. _"Perhaps it is time for us to visit the home of our order."_

Her dragon merely snorted.

Arya stood up suddenly, her mind made up.

" _Firnen, we're leaving. By tomorrow at the latest we will be on our way to Eragon's home."_

Firnen let out a joyful roar, startling several poor elves who were reading quietly next to him.

Arya smiled at his happiness. To long had he been kept away from his mate, Saphira. And to long had she not seen her best friend.

Eragon dodge yet another sword thrust, his body twisting and turning as graceful and fluid as air. He allowed himself a smirk at his opponent's obvious frustration.

"Come Yaela, you seem slower this morning. Are you feeling well?" he taunted.

A scowl appeared on her beautiful face. "Stop running and fight!" she shot back.

Eragon grinned. She had asked for it. He struck out with Brisingr, startling Yaela, who had not expected him to actually respond to her taunt. As such, she barely blocked his swing with her own sword. Blue met gold in a shower of sparks and the ring of steel as the two swordsmen exchanged blows.

Despite everything she tried, Yaela was on the defensive and could not get a single counter attack in. Eragon was considered a master of the blade at the tender age of fifteen. Now, over three hundred years later, his skills had not diminished. If anything they had improved to the point that he was, quite possibly, the greatest swordsman in history. And as such, she could not hope to last long against him, despite being nearly four centuries his senior.

With a twist of his sword that Yaela couldn't even see, Eragon disarmed her. She felt the cool metal of his magnificent sword rest its' tip on her collarbone.

"Dead." He said.

She scowled. "I do not understand it, Eragon-elda. I have sparred with you for over two hundred years and yet the number of times I have bested you can be counted upon one of my hands.

The lead rider shrugged. "I do not know what to tell you, Yaela. You are a very talented swordsman. One of the most formidable I have ever faced, but I do not know how to improve our skill. You are doing nothing wrong as far as I can tell," Eragon said, trying to placate her.

It was strange to him, how much she had changed since her dragon hatched for her. Where she used to be quiet and reserved, now she was open and boisterous. It amazed him what a dragon could do for one's personality. He had to say that he liked this Yaela much better than the old one though. They got along rather well. Often taking meals together and having good conversation. Or sitting at the cliffs, enjoying nature and watching their dragons dive into the ocean and play about in the water.

The two riders unblocked their blades and began to clean up the arena.

" _I keep telling you that she would make a good mate, little-one,"_ Saphira thought to him.

Eragon's face turned slightly red at his dragon's statement. _"Enough of that, we've already talked about this, Saphira. She is a good friend and companion. Nothing more."_

The blue dragon snorted in disbelief, but dropped the subject for the moment.

Eragon found himself watching Yaela as she moved about, picking up various weapons and returning them to their respective places. She moved with a gentle grace that belied her strength. Back in Ellesmera, she was regarded as one of the great beauties of the elves and Eragon did not disagree. He had found himself glancing her way more and more ever since he had told Arya his desire for her as something more than a friend had vanished.

He watched as the elf-maiden looked up at something in the sky, her hair framing her face and the sun's dying light falling gently on her face. Breathtaking, he thought. Eragon caught himself staring again and quickly shook himself as he resumed his cleanup. She did not think of him as anything more than a friend, and he was not going to do anything to ruin their current relationship. He had made that mistake with Arya, and it had nearly cost him their friendship. No, he would content himself with remaining her companion.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello again everyone. Sorry for the wait. I wanted to show a little of what had happened in Alagaesia since Eragon and Saphira left. A very little bit, as it turned out. You will find out more of what happened later, but it's probably not much different than what you'd expect to happen.**

 **About the Eragon x Yaela. As you can see, I'm not starting them off in a relationship. They are friends and have been for a long time. Eragon is fearful of taking the next step and telling her he's interest because of what happened with him and Arya all those years ago at the Agaeti Blodhren.**

 **In case some of you guys ask, I'm not currently planning on putting Arya with anyone. For two reasons mainly. First off, I don't know of anyone besides Eragon that she could feasibly end up with while staying in character. Secondly, I'm not confident in my ability to both create a believable OC for her nor in my knowledge of her as a character. Paolini really didn't flesh her out as much as he could have. She had the potential to be an amazing character, but ended up mainly as "Eragon's love interest".**

 **Which is sad, because I've read plenty of Eragon x Arya fanfics where she had been fleshed out rather well. They have a believable romance. One that honestly is not all that difficult to write. Not easy, but not too difficult.**

 **As for ExY, I'm rather nervous as to how good of a job I'll do. I'm a big fan of Eragon and Arya getting together, but decided I wanted to do something different for my story.**

 **Anyway, tell me what you think of this paring in your review. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and asked for. And if any of you know of any good Eragon x Anyone-but-Arya stories, please let me know as I have a hard time finding them.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it, and as always,**

 _ **Atra gülia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello again everyone! As several people requested, I'm trying to make the length of the chapters longer. While I usually don't write long ones, you all requested it, so I'll try to accommodate.**

 **By now you all should have an idea of my update speed. I don't have a ton of free time to spend writing, which is why my chapters are usually short. Expect about a chapter a week. Anything more is bonus! :D**

 **As always, read, critique, and above all, enjoy!**

 _ **Atra gülia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr**_

Chapter 4

Later that night, after his spar with Yaela, Eragon sat beside Saphira on top of their tower simply observing the comings and goings of their city. It had grown so much since he founded it. It sat in a bay, white marble cliffs on either side of the bay that sloped down to the water in the middle. It was in that depression that Shur'tugal Du Lif began. The harbor to the south of them was a small one, as there was no commerce between Eldurna and Alagaesia, the former not producing much more than what was required of its inhabitants.

The arena, sparring grounds, archery range, and stables where off to the east, by the forest. Many an apprentice, off all races, became well acquainted with pain and frustration on their grounds. Mainly the result of a rough sparring match with their master. Eragon had not taken an apprentice in nearly 60 years in part because his last one had become so frustrated that he could not beat his master. Most apprentices had the satisfaction, before they graduated, of besting their master at least once. But for Eragon's apprentice, an elven male by the name of Falinor, that victory was never won. As such he saw himself as a failure that he, an elf, could not defeat his master even once in the 23 years of his apprenticeship. Eragon eventually convinced him that he was, by no means, less of a rider than anyone else.

Eragon turned his gaze to the Sky Towers, seeming to glow in the light of the setting sun, as the non-riders called them. For they appeared to touch the heavens, such was their height. It was within their brilliant marble walls that rider and dragon lived. The center tower was the largest and housed the apprentices and their dragons. From the distance that he and Saphira were at, it appeared to have pock marks all over the surface. In truth they were dragon holds, all varying in size. The center of the tower was solid marble. As several of the full riders had married other's within their order, Eragon had commissioned a fourth tower to be build, with dragon holds a full three times the size of the current ones to accommodate two dragons and their riders.

His tower, which was situated in the heart of the city, housed the great library that had sprung forth over the centuries and was located on the middle level of the tower. The bottom housed a great hall and kitchens for Eragon welcomed all his riders, both masters and apprentices, to dine with him every night. And he was rarely disappointed in the turnout. It was rare for less than half the order to not show up at his door.

The top of the tower was his. It was where his office and personal quarters were located, divided into two rooms. He kept a small table and some chairs in his room for more intimate dinners with his closest friends usually consisting of his former elven guards. They were his advisors, his companions, and his trusted lieutenants. Of the former twelve, eight remained. Three chose to remain behind when he left Alagaesia, and Wyrden fell during the siege of Dras-Leona in the catacombs beneath the city.

Then there was the North. A great forest, comparable in size and age to Du Weldenvarden. It was wild and untamed, with trees rivaling those within the elves home. Several elves that had come with new riders had made the forest their home. Though few in number, more arrived every year once word of the great forest spread to Alagaesia. It was called Du Boetkvarden, which roughly translated to "The Broad Forest".

" _I do not think I shall ever tire of this view,"_ Saphira interjected into his thoughts. _"It is a testament to all of our hard work. To the sweat and the tears that make up the foundation of this city in all its rising glory. One day, little-one, this city will rival Ilirea and Ellesmera."_

" _Of that I have no doubts,"_ Eragon said with a smile. _"Though it had a slow start, more people are showing up each year. If the population continues at its current rate, we will have to expand the city. Not that Laufin will mind, I think,"_ he chuckled. The elf was extremely fond of all forms of architecture and was one of the few to study with the dwarven master builders. It was his ideas that Shur'tugal Du Lif was built on.

" _Yes, rather think that he will have a field day with the news. I expect we will not see him much until the building begins once he receives the news,"_ Saphira mused.

Her rider laughed aloud at her statement. _"I fear you are right again, partner-of-my-mind-and-heart. Perhaps I shall hold off on informing him until his apprentice graduates. Else the poor girl will be left to her own devices!"_

Saphira's rumbling laughter caused the roof of the tower they were currently occupying to hum and vibrate.

They sat as the sun set, casting its dying glow over the city they had worked so hard for, content in each other and their current lives until the moon had reached its zenith.

Then together, they departed for their chambers, and descended into a peaceful sleep.

 **Quick note:**

 **I know, this chapter is not any longer than the others, but as I am starting the next one, you all will receive another update before next week.**

 **So, what do you think of Eragon's city? Was the description…descriptive enough? Let me know in the comments!**

 **On a side note, I know that Wyrden was counted in the three that did not leave with Eragon and Saphira, mainly because he was dead. But I decided to have eight elves instead of nine. Mainly because that kept the number uneven (with Eragon included) and I prefer that.**

 **Also, I would like to recommend a story that a guest reviewer recommended to me. Though I had already read it a few months ago. It's called "Brightest Star" by karldin. It's a very good story and happens to be an Eragon x OC. Though the OC is one of the unnamed elven guards that was developed rather well in my opinion. I draw inspiration from it along with several others for my story.**

 **And always feel free to recommend Eragon stories that you all have come across. Especially Eragon x OC stories as those are quite rare.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**

 **Hello again! Sorry for the wait. Enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 5

Arya was speechless. She had heard stories from Eragon and other's about Shur'tugal Du Lif's beauty, but was wholly unprepared for the sight that lay before her eyes. The city truly did shine as Eragon had told her. The elven queen had a hard time believing the farm boy she had bade farewell to so long ago built this. She felt Firnen agree.

" _Eragon-rider is not the same as you remember him, I think. Time and the pressure of leading the order must have certainly had its' effects on him,"_ Firnen warned. _"He is no long a young farm boy out of his depth."_

Arya sighed. _"I suppose you are right. But he can't have changed that much. His letters do not sound to different that how I remember him normally speaking. Just with more eloquence. But enough speculating. We have been travelling for several months."_

" _More like I've been carrying you."_ Her dragon sniffed.

Arya grinned. _"And I thank you, oh mighty dragon. Now, would you care to announce us?"_

Firnen's roar drowned out his rider's laughter as he sent them into a steep dive.

 _At last,_ thought Arya. _Together again at last._

Eragon was enjoying a few stolen moments of peace and quiet. As much as he loved his riders, they were rather taxing at times. Especially the new apprentices. They had taken a great delight in playing pranks on the other riders. He was fairly certain that he was the only one of the master's to not have fallen victim to their mischief. Not from lack of trying though. He was simply too aware for them to pull anything on him. Eragon had gotten quite a few laughs at the expense of the victims though. His favorite was when one of the older boys, a human from Surda, named Hillian, who was extremely talented with magic, had bespelled Yaela's face. He had sung an enchantment to cause the hair on her face to grow.

***Flashback***

Eragon entered her room to leave her morning tea beside her bed as was his habit when she slept in. At first he thought he had entered the wrong room somehow. After dismissing that, his heart clenched

when he thought she might have had a lover stay the night.

Quietly, he set the cup down and turned to leave, respecting her privacy. As he reached the door, he her his name called softly.

"Eragon?"

Slowly he turned. Yaela, for he recognized her voice, sat partially up in her bed with a questioning look. As he took her in two things happened. His face became as read as Thorn's scales when he realized that all she had on was a thin tunic. Sweat caused it to cling to her like a second skin. However, his first instinct to turn was overridden by the giant, golden beard that extended from her face to collarbone.

Yaela began to laugh at the look on his face. No doubt it was rather funny in its' own right. She immediately stopped though. Slowly, she raised a hand to her face in confusion. It was now Eragon's turn to laugh as indignation, repulsion, and horror made laps around her face. Had he been able to see through the tears that streamed down his cheeks, he very well may have been killed by the look she sent him as she scrambled out of her bed and to a mirror.

However her foot slipped on her sheets carelessly tossed on the floor earlier and collided with Eragon. His head made a loud bang as it hit the stone floor and he lay there for a moment, dazed. As he regained his senses, he became aware of a weight on his chest and an itchy feeling over his face. With a start the rider realized that it was his friends beard and fell to an uncontrollable fit of laughter once again. The weight on his chest vanished almost immediately as Yaela ran to the mirror and began to remove the hair and enchantment with a spell of her own. Once she finished, the embarrassed rider turned to her master. Eragon thought I wise to stop laughing at her for the moment. His rider's face was redder than he had seen on any elf. His lip twitched, but he managed to reign in his amusement.

"I did not realize you wanted to be a man, Yaela. I will not judge of course, but perhaps you should give to priority to…other aspects first, hmm?" Eragon said, his face blank.

The poor female rider's face burned even more as she sent him a scathing look.

"Perhaps I shall leave you to your own machinations. However, I have some old clothes I could lend you if you decide to further your change." He said as he fled the room laughing, a chair following him.

***End Flashback***

Eragon could not help but smile at the memory. Hillian had ended up cleaning the stables for two weeks, but was more upset that he didn't get to see his handiwork than he was about his punishment.

The riders here were family above all. It was one of his core beliefs that he instilled in all his riders. The bonds between one another must be strong to prevent another Galbatorix from rising.

His head snapped up at the sound of a roar he had not heard in over three hundred years.

"It cannot be." He whispered.

Sending a mental summons to Saphira, he began to run to the main landing yard. A smile that threatened to split his face appeared. After so long, he would see his friend again.

Arya grinned as she saw a small figure race to the courtyard from the large central tower. She knew who that was and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

Another roar that seemed to shake the very sky sounded to their right as a huge blue dragon made her way to them as fast as her wings would carry her. Firnen landed just long enough for her to jump down before joining his long lost mate in the sky. The queen smiled as she felt her dragon's happiness at the reunion.

"They certainly missed each other." A voice behind her chuckled.

Arya whipped around and…froze.

The man before her was taller than she remembered and his form-fitting elven tunic extenuated his broad chest. Her eyes travelled down his frame and back to his head. His hair was shorter and had several streaks of silver. But what startled her the most were his sapphire eyes.

"Eragon?" She asked tentatively.

 **Well looks like Eragon and Arya are finally reunited. I wonder if things will change now that they are together. How will Yaela take having Eragon's former love interest back in his life? And Arya, will her feelings for him rekindle now that they are back together? Guess we'll have to wait and see, eh? :)**

 **So, tell me what you think guys? I'm still planning to make this an ExOC story, unless enough of you guys want ExA. That's pretty much the only Eragon pairing besides Eragon x Saphira, which I don't like at all.**

 **As for you guys wanting longer chapters, I tried, but I can't bring myself to. This about the same length as all my other ones and I like this length, sorry.**

 **In any case, read, review, and above all enjoy!**

 _ **Atra gülia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr**_


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